The Start of Something Good
by KSPretenderFan
Summary: Are they ready for a little something more than just the penthouse suite? Read and find out.


**AN: **I so don't know where this fic is going. But, I thought it might be the start of another series. Each fic will be a day in the life of j/z. So this may be all there is. Or there may be more. Been battling the lack of inspiration and the muse has been difficult. She's fighting me because I blamed her for the 15 pounds I put on when I started writing fanfic! Anyway, hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think.

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**The Start of Something Good**

John Reese strode into the bedroom of the suite, a cup of coffee balanced in one hand and stood for a moment, enjoying the sight of the Fixer, none other than Zoe Morgan, sleeping. After they had spent the night at the penthouse suite of the Coronet Hotel two months ago, their meetings were few and far between. She had insisted that their dalliances were in hotels, her reasoning was similar to Finch's in that hotels were one of the few places a person could retain relative anonymity. In her line of work and in his, it was imperative not to be seen together too often.

Her long mane of brown tresses spread across the pillowcase and her cheeks were still flushed pink from their activities into the early hours of the morning. The one thing he liked the most about Zoe was the intensity she applied into everything she did – her job, the few times she had helped he and Harold, and especially nighttime, or not so nighttime activities.

Though he had known her for well over a year and, despite his vow to never let anyone penetrate the walls he had built around himself, and get past his defenses, he felt that Zoe had done just that. For the past several weeks, with the lack of numbers the machine was giving them, John had been thinking dangerous thoughts of something deeper than emotionless liaisons every few weeks. Zoe Morgan with her lithe body, killer legs, passion for her job and for life plus the ability to laugh just when you needed it the most had stealthily slipped beneath his skin, without meaning to. Of that he was certain.

He was starting to care for her and though he regretted it, he woke each morning after nights like the previous, looking forward to seeing her face on the pillow beside him. What would happen once they decided this thing between them was over? Would he go back to being "the man in the suit", utterly devoted to his job and nothing else?

John didn't want to think past today and Zoe's bare body beneath the sheets. Instead of going to his car and stalking the NYPD via the airwaves, he wanted to divest himself of the suit and join her. Perhaps waste the day in bed reliving the splendor of the previous evening.

Unfortunately, even though the numbers weren't coming in quick enough, he still had a job to do and so did she. He leaned over her and pressed a kiss to the spot behind her ear and gruffly spoke. "Wake up, sunshine."

"Huh?" She stretched, her supple body outlined beneath the sheets. "What time is it?" Her voice was like bourbon, an alluring murmur shrouded in sleep.

"You have to meet your client in about half an hour."

She stopped mid-stretch and her eyes flew open. "What?"

"You have thirty minutes before your client expects you, at least that is what you said last night." He smacked her thigh. "Get up."

"John! Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest with one hand and running her other through her hair.

"You looked so comfortable; I didn't want to disturb you. Besides, it's only a block to your meeting. If you hurry, you'll even have time for this cup of coffee." Honestly, he had felt blameworthy for keeping her up until the wee hours of the morning.

"No, I can't be late. I am never late." Zoe flung the sheets aside and stood beside him.

John smoothed a hand down her hip and pulled her against him. "I'm all for being no-shows for our jobs and staying here." Pressing a kiss to her lips, on hand slid up her back and one down over her bare bottom.

"Uh-huh." Her tongue delved between his lips and dueled with his; her hands slipping beneath his jacket to wrap around his waist. She squeezed him hard and leaned back. "Liar. You know neither one of us could stay away from our jobs." She kissed him hard once more and then pushed away.

John sighed, she was right. He would never consider skipping out on work and leaving Harold to deal with the numbers all by himself. Back to the grind of fast-paced New York living; where people barely had time to think much less get to know each other. "What's your day like besides the early meeting?"

"A little bit of this, a little bit of that," she said from the bathroom. "Depends on if I get phone calls during the day, you know how it is. What about you?"

"My plans are open, I'm free to come and go as I please, within reason."

"Almost sounds like me. Although, your boss or is it partner, isn't a slouch." She strode back through the bedroom wearing a black lacy bra and matching panties.

John resisted the urge to grab her and throw her on the bed. She was right again; their jobs were a lot alike. In his line of work, and hers, the less everyone knew about the details of what they did, the better. The general description of what they did, the outer shell they had constructed was enough for anyone to know. Occasionally their paths crossed and John's business was her business. He often wondered what made Zoe continue to provide her services to them. It couldn't just be because they had saved her life once. Given where his thoughts had been the past few weeks, he didn't want to even consider why she still hung around.

He checked his watch. Harold and Bear would be expecting him soon with pastries. "I have to go."

Zoe zipped the back of her simple black dress and padded over to him in bare feet. "Will I see you later?"

He nodded, staring down at her. "I'll call."

She stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Right," Zoe responded though wishing the day was already over, and that was an unusual thought for her. She lived for days full of meetings. It meant clients, it meant money, and it meant security. As John returned the gentle pressure of her lips, she suspected that he had a lot to do with her ennui.

He held her close for just a moment more before he let go. The day ahead already seemed too long and he wasn't sure he liked feeling anxious to get through it.

"John?"

Pausing at the door, he turned toward her.

Zoe bit her lip and pushed her hair behind her ear, a habit she only displayed when she was nervous. She started to say something then shook her head. "Stay safe."

John's gut knotted. When she said those words, he had caught a glimpse of caring in her eyes. He had enjoyed the past few weeks; it had offered him a respite from the atrocities of what he and Harold dealt with. But was he ready to admit it meant more than just a matter of convenience? Trying to lighten the mood, John said something he knew would do it. "Try to stay out of trouble."

She smiled a smile that lit up her face and told him exactly what he expected. "Not gonna happen."

His belly flopped over that smile as well as what she did next.

She straightened her lips and furrowed her brow in a way that he knew meant she was about to say something important and meaningful to her.

Recognizing and reading body language were all part of his arsenal. Sometimes, he wished he wasn't so good at it as he was both hoping and dreading that notorious L-word. Though he had experienced love with Jessica, he wasn't convinced that it could happen again for him, believing that it only existed once in a lifetime for most. And he sure as hell wasn't certain he wanted to deal with the ramifications of having a more than casual relationship.

Pushing the hair behind her other ear, worrying the other side of her lip, Zoe took a deep breath. "I need to talk to you about something . . . never mind." She shook her head once again as if she changing her mind.

With his heart pounding against his ribs, John felt the sudden need to breathe open, fresh air. He jerked the door open and said over his shoulder, "I, uh, have to go. We'll talk later okay?" And then he escaped like his life depended on it.

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When the door shut behind John, Zoe shook her head. Well, clearly John wasn't ready for anything permanent. And what was she thinking neither was she. With the work that they do and the hours they keep, there was no way anything more than periodic assignations would work between them.

She sighed, something she had done quite a bit of in the past few weeks. What was wrong with her? Her life was just as she planned - fast-paced, exciting, lucrative and purposeful. As a Crisis Manager, she had more than enough influence on the rich and powerful of New York City. The feeling of power and control she obtained from the work that she did was more than satisfying, fascinating even, and everything she had worked for, put her life on hold for.

A quick glance at the clock made Zoe hasten into her black heels. She needed to get to her client meeting, otherwise, she might not be able to live the life she was accustomed to. Zoe had to smirk at the thought. Being a trader of information and knowing how things worked in Manhattan was very lucrative. She couldn't complain. She could easily find her own little island somewhere and just laze the day away considering the number of off shore accounts she had. It was a dream of hers. She didn't kid herself though; she knew she wouldn't last a week without saving someone's career or ass and in return, them owing her something.

She never questioned her choices, perfectly happy with the way her life turned out. Until John and his invisible friend showed up, uninvited, needless to say. The things they did to help the innocent, the fact that they had saved her life made her question why she continued to do what she did. Granted, she always knew she walked a fine legal line in most of what she did. She was by no means a white hat, though that was a matter of opinion depending on who you spoke to, but she had started to question if doing what she did really gave her any sort of accomplishment at all.

Damn it, John and Harold always got her thinking about changes. Shaking her head, she headed out the door of the suite. This was not the time for such thoughts. She had a business to run and she needed her wits about her if she wanted to continue to be the in-demand Crisis Manager that she was.

Fin


End file.
